


Just Like Another Step

by scherpzinning



Category: Turn (TV 2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Multi, Mutual Pining, equestrian AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-16
Updated: 2016-08-28
Packaged: 2018-07-24 07:51:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7500093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scherpzinning/pseuds/scherpzinning
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They say a barn is like it's own universe, and that includes all the drama, chaos, and feelings that comes with it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 1

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Michael Jung & Sam's test from the Rolex Kentucky Three-Day Event, which can be seen here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GO52BIQaETo

Nestled in the hills of Northern Virginia, Rebel Yell Stables looked like any of the hundreds of horse farms in the surrounding area. Settled on 70 acres, it wasn’t the biggest barn in the area, but it wasn’t the smallest either. The only thing that brought it any fame was the owner, George Washington. Washington had been an Olympic hopeful until his gelding Nelson had turned up lame just before Rolex. By the time the next Olympics had rolled around, Washington had all but dropped off the map, eventually turning up with his two horses and a new barn in Virginia.

Rebel Yell’s other point of interest was its newest rising star, the young Ben Tallmadge. He was Washington’s newest working student, and as much of a celebrity as one could be in USEA Area II shows. Riders grouped together to comment on what a nice young man he seemed to be, always nice to his horse and fellow competitors, while their mothers would comment on what a handsome nice man he was, how nice his butt looked in those white breeches.

Rebel Yell in the summer wasn’t a bustling barn, but it had that sense of community that smaller barns always seemed to have, Of the 24 stalls, 22 were filled. Washington had two horses, Nelson and Blue, both upper level eventers Washington rode with along with a small string of client and sale horses. Ben had brought his one horse, Dragoon- a small but brave off-the-track gelding -with him from college, and the rest of the stalls were either filled with Washington’s mounts, or boarders.

“Good morning, Billy,” Ben said as he entered the barn aisle. It had been the his morning off from the barn chores, and coming in at 9 am seemed as close to sleeping in as Ben was ever going to get. 

“Morning, Ben,” Billy called from the stall he was in, tacking up one of the boarded horses for a training ride.

Billy Lee wasn’t a working student anymore, but he had been with Washington since before the move and still helped with the barn chores a few days a week. He also rode as a catch-rider, riding the sale horses in shows and offering training rides to anyone who needed them. He also taught lessons to anyone who trailered in, but he let Ben take the serious riders while he taught the younger riders and adult amateurs.

Caleb was supposed to be arriving any minute to do Dragoon’s shoes, and Washington was going to be out all day teaching a clinic, leaving Ben to ride the sale horses- and hopefully Dragoon, if he had time. At least he had no lessons scheduled that day.

“Ben! Caleb’s here!” Billy called from the aisle, and Ben looked out the door- sure enough, there was Caleb’s truck pulling up, Caleb in the driver’s seat singing animatedly along to some song Ben couldn’t hear. Ben couldn’t help but smile as he approached.

Ben and Caleb had known each other since their freshman year of college, when they had been put into a triple with Abe Woodhull, a local whose father ran a nearby dressage barn. Caleb had been in farrier school then, and after graduation had decided to pursue that full time. A stroke of luck left Washington without a farrier, and after a session where Washington got to see how well Caleb worked with horses, Caleb was the official barn farrier. And if he gave Ben a special discount because of their friendships and Caleb’s crush on Ben, well, no one made that big of a fuss over it.

“Hee-eeyy, Tallboy!” Caleb called as he stepped out of his truck. He hugged Ben, thumping him soundly on the back. “It’s been too long.”  
  
“Caleb, we saw a movie together two days ago,” Ben said, but he hugged Caleb tightly back. It was still early in Caleb's day, so he smelled like his shampoo and shower gel, a familiar smell that reminded Ben of comfort and laughter.  
  
“Yeah, like I said, too long.”

Letting Ben go, Caleb went and opened up the back of his truck. While he was getting everything ready for his upcoming appointments, Ben went to go get Dragoon. The gelding nickered softly as Ben approached, and Ben dug a peppermint out of his pocket to give to him.

Ben had owned Dragoon since the second semester of senior year. Caleb had cornered him one Friday evening early in the semester and said, “Be ready to go tomorrow morning, there’s a horse we need to get.” Caleb had found a trailer to borrow (Ben didn’t ask how- Caleb had ways of getting things that Ben didn’t always want to think too hard on) and they had left at 6 a.m. the next morning. The eight-and-a-half hour drive from Virginia to Setauket, New York had been filled with easy laughter, conversation, and good music. That’s probably when Ben’s crush on Caleb began, looking back on it.

Dragoon had been an awkward, spindly six year old, dark gray with a small white sock on his left back foot. But the moment Ben had seen him, he had fallen in love with the gelding. The look Caleb had given him said that that was Caleb’s plan all along, and that was all Ben needed to take the plunge and write a check. So the drive back down the next morning had been Ben and Caleb in the truck, with a wide-eyed six year old in the trailer behind them. That same gelding had grown into a well-muscled sporthorse, taking Ben up through the levels until they were set to move up to prelim level in a few weeks.

“You heard from Abe or Anna lately?” Caleb asked as Ben led Dragoon up to the cross ties. Anna had been the fourth person in their college quartet, though she had kept in touch even less than Abe had since she had attended grad school in New York, only coming back to Virginia in the past year.

“Apart from facebook posts, no,” Ben replied, clipping the cross ties to Dragoon’s halter and stepping back to sit on a stepstool and let Caleb do his work. Just as Caleb picked up one of Dragoon’s front feet, though, Ben’s phone began ringing. He pulled it out of his pocket and looked at the caller ID, laughing.

“Speak of the devil, this is Abe,” Ben told Caleb as he accepted the call and put his phone to his ear.

“Hey, Abe,” Ben greeted.  
  
“Hi, Ben, listen, are you free right now?” Abe asked on the other end of the line. He sounded frantic, but Abe always sounded vaguely frantic.  
  
“I’m with Caleb getting Dragoon’s feet done, why? Do you need something?” Caleb raised an eyebrow at Ben, but Ben shrugged a shoulder.  
  
“I need a rather sudden stall, if you have one or know where to get one,” Abe said, laughing a little bit. “I may have, uh, acquired a horse and need a place to keep her until I can convince my father to take her.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Abe makes a gamble and buys a horse

Whitehall stables, only a few minutes away from Rebel Yell stables, was an old established part of Virginia’s equestrian community. Richard Woodhull, the owner, was a well-respected dressage trainer and rider, though he hadn’t competed since his wife died in a riding accident almost ten years ago. He knew horses like the back of his hand, but he was old-fashioned and stubborn. 

Which is why Abe knew the moment he signed the check that what he was doing was a bad idea. Buying a five-year old off the track with no vet check, no test ride, no outside opinion. But Abe knew that he could train this horse and prove to his father that he could. And it was too late to go back now. He was standing beside the trailer, on the phone with Ben while the owner was preparing all of the mare’s things. 

“I’m sorry, you what?” Ben asked him, and Abe could see the expression Ben had on his face without needing to see him. Ben had used that expression a lot during their four years at school together. 

“Yeah, yeah, save me the grief,” Abe muttered. “Listen, she’s five and off the track and I think I can do great things with her but you know my dad and-”

“You’re rambling, Woody,” Caleb said. Abe looked at his phone, checking that he did, in fact, call Ben. 

“Caleb?” Abe asked. 

“Ben’s phone is on speaker,” Caleb said. There was some kind of background noise. Caleb must be doing Dragoon’s shoes. 

“So you’re telling me that you bought a horse on a whim and your dad has no idea?” Ben said, tactfully steering the conversation back on track. 

“In so many words, yeah,” Abe said. The barn hands were bringing his mare out, and even though he was panicking Abe couldn’t help but smile. She was a cute mare. Cabbage, they called her here. Tall and big-boned with bright, kind eyes and a careful way of going that reminded Abe of his mother’s old horse. Abe knew Ben would like her too, once he saw her. She was a dappled gray, but still young enough that you could see her three white stockings and the blaze running down her face.

“And you can’t bring her back to Whitehall?”

“Not unless you want me dead, yeah.”

“We have a couple of open stalls,” Ben said with a sigh. “And I could put you up on a day-to-day basis for now, but you’d have to talk to Washington for any long-term agreement.”

“Thanks, Ben, I owe you one,” Abe said, quickly hanging up and stuffing the phone in his pocket before Ben could lecture him any more. 

Abe helped the owner- or, former owner now, considering Abe had signed all of the papers and handed the check over ten minutes ago- load Cabbage up into the trailer and put her stuff in the tack room. Then he got in the truck, starting it and sitting in the air conditioning for a moment. Then he put in Rebel Yell into his GPS, and took a deep breath before pulling out of the barn.  
As he drove, Abe stubbornly refused to think of everything that could go wrong. He had been riding since he was a kid, he knew what he was doing. He would train Cabbage well, and finally make himself a name other than the one he shared with his father. 

“Easy, totally easy,” he said out loud, glancing in the rear view mirror at the trailer. Totally easy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone thinks Cabbage is a weird name for a horse- it is. But Jockey Club names are weird, so for a racehorse name Cabbage isn't all that weird. Because horse people and no repeating names, I guess


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry this took so long. I just started my senior year of college and we all know how that goes.

As soon as Cabbage was set up in one of Rebel Yell’s empty stalls and the trailer was parked safely behind the barn, Abe said a quick goodbye to Ben and Caleb. 

“You’re leaving already, Woody?” Caleb asked. He had finished doing Dragoon’s feet, and had helped Abe put hay and water in Cabbage’s new stall while Ben had put his own horse away. 

“I’ve gotta do errands for my father and get back to Whitehall for my barn chores,” Abe said, halfway into the cab of the truck. “But I’ll be back as soon as I can to see how she’s settling in!” And with that he closed the drivers side door and drove off, leaving a faint cloud of dust in his wake. 

“Has he always been like that?” Caleb asked, looking through the bars at Cabbage, who was happily munching on her hay with her back to him. 

“I think so,” Ben said, walking up next to him. “I’ll have him text me when he’s coming back to check on her, but until then I’ve got horses to ride.” He didn’t move, though, instead looking into the stall as well. Cabbage was cute, Ben had to give Abe that. She was young, and hadn’t grown out of her track body, but Ben could see the foundations of a well-bred and promising sport horse. She was sweet, too, gently nickering and coming to the front of the stall when she noticed Ben and Caleb watching her. 

“Boy, Woody, you’ve sure gotten yourself into a mess this time,” Caleb muttered as he reached through the bars to stroke Cabbage’s nose. 

***

By the time Abe got to Whitehall that afternoon, Anna was standing at the front of the aisle, her hands on her hips. 

“If you had made me do your chores for you because you were late, so help me god-” Anna started speaking before Abe had even put a foot down on the ground, but there was no venom in her words and she stepped up to help Abe unload the bags of feed out of the back of the truck. 

“Aw, come on, Anna,” Abe said with a smile over his shoulder. “You know I’d do it for you if you were ever late.” 

Anna huffed as she pulled out one of the heavy bags, hefting it so she could carry it over a shoulder. But she didn’t disagree, which Abe took to mean that he was forgiven.

“Besides, I couldn’t be late because I’ve got to leave as soon as possible to see my new mare,” he said as he hefted a bag over his own shoulder, but it seemed like Anna was too far away to hear him. Abe shrugged, following Anna into the feed room. He didn’t repeat himself, getting distracted by thinking of all the things he needed to do. There were only a few cars in the parking lot, so he hoped he would be able to finish his work in a reasonable amount of time. Anna helped him move a few more bags, then looked at her watch. 

“I should get riding if I want to be home before it’s too late,” she said. She patted one of Abe’s shoulders and disappeared into the barn, leaving Abe to finish unloading his truck. She almost asked him what he had said earlier, having only caught the first bit of it, but decided against it. If it was that important he would have already told her.

Anna and Richard Woodhull had never gotten along well, always butting heads from anything from politics to horse training. But after she had returned from New York after grad school and decided to buy a young horse, Whitehall was the only barn in the area that had a stall open. She did barn chores four days a week to help cover the costs, and thankfully had managed to mostly avoid the older Woodhull so far. 

“Evening, Anna,” Mary said as Anne passed the grooming stalls, making Anna startle in surprise. Mary was standing at her gelding’s shoulder, a curry comb in her hand. Mary looked as put-together as she always did, with her spotless blue polo tucked into her breeches and her hair, looking like gold in the late afternoon sun streaming through the window, braided over her shoulder.

“Hey, Mary,” Anna said, smiling. “How are you?” When Mary and Anna had met there had been no small amount of tension, since at the time Mary and Abe had been dating and Mary had heard how Anna and Abe dated through high school and into college. After Mary and Abe broke up, though, they had become tentative friends, though they never tried to meet up at any other place than the barn.

“I’m alright, thanks,” Mary said with a smile. “I’m taking Leo out for a trail ride tonight, if you want to come with us?” She patted Leo’s shoulder as she asked. Leo was one of the biggest horses in the barn, and easily the flashiest, with a copper-colored coat, four matching stockings, and a wide blaze running down his face. He was also one of the friendlier horses in the barn, and Anna held out her hand to let lim lip at her palm. 

“Yeah, that sounds nice,” She told Mary. “Let me just get Ophelia ready.” 

“Of course,” Mary said, waving a hand. “I’ll meet you in the back outdoor? We can take the trail that crosses the stream.” 

“Sounds good,” Anna said over her shoulder as she went to go get Ophelia, stopping briefly in the tack room to get her grooming kit and saddle. 

Ophelia was facing the back of the stall when Anna stopped at the door, and refused to turn around even when Anna cooed her name. Putting the tack in her arms down with an annoyed sigh, Anna let herself into the stall and pulled Ophelia’s halter on over her head, tying her to the loop of twine on the stall bars. 

Ophelia was only six, and the first thing Anna had done, other than finding a place to live, when she moved back to Virginia. Her pedigree promised a sporthorse, with eventers, show jumpers, and dressage horses in it, but her breeder had been aiming for a dressage mount. And with less time and money than she had in college, Anna had told herself to stick with dressage. Not that doing dressage wasn’t fun, of course, but Anna couldn’t deny that she would miss the thrill of running a cross country course again. 

Anna tacked up quickly, getting to the gate of the outdoor ring just as Mary was mounting up. They warmed up for a few minutes in silence, and then Mary led the way out of the ring, opening and closing the gate with a surprising amount of ease. Mary made most things she did on horseback look easily, though, Anna thought. 

It was only when they reached the beginning of the forest path that Anna realized what Abe had said to her in the parking lot. She sat straighter, hands unconsciously tightening on the reins. 

“Holy shit,” she said, and Mary twisted in the saddle to look at Anna with a raised eyebrow. 

“Abe just bought a horse.”


End file.
